Page 23 of Seeking Evil

Chapter Nine

“You fool! You could have ruined everything.” As soon as he entered the house, T lobbed the accusation at him.

Henry stared down at Sierra lying on the living room floor a few steps from freedom.

“If she’d gotten away . . .”

Henry took the anger and did his best to abate it. “But she didn’t.” He nudged Sierra with his foot. “How much did you give her?”

“Enough to take her down. Get her back to the table. I want her to pay for what she did.”

“What do you mean?” Henry didn’t like the sound of it.

“What do you think? Get me another girl. I want her to watch me kill that girl before I take her life. You screwed up and let the other one go. Get me another!”

With those words, the front door opened and shut, and Henry found himself alone again.

Henry leaned over and felt for a pulse. He should have known better than to leave her unsupervised. He’d thought it would be okay for a little while. He’d been wrong.

Now, he’d have to carry her down stairs that challenged his tired old body every time he descended them.

Henry pulled in a breath and gathered his strength. He hoisted Sierra dead weight up and over his shoulder.

He lumbered toward the kitchen. Steadied his legs and opened the door. He’d have to double-check her pockets. Somehow, she’d gotten free. It wouldn’t happen again.

Henry stood on the landing of the stairs to the basement. Holding onto the banister he carefully made his way down them while balancing Sierra’s weight.

Perhaps returning to the act of killing had been a mistake. T, the monster who had made him an unwilling partner years ago, had encouraged him to return to his first love. But, so far, this had turned into a fiasco. Sierra was FBI. There were more of them here in town, looking for her. It hadn’t taken but a few minutes to figure that out.

They’d stayed hidden before. Would they be as lucky this time?

Crossing through his woodworking room, he carried her over to the table and quickly shackled her wrists and ankles.

A quick search of her pockets revealed a paperclip bent out of shape. She’d used it to free herself of her restraints.

She had no other tools on her. She’d dropped one of his woodworking tools and the scalpel along with her disabled Glock when she’d been drugged.

By the time he’d finished, Henry was exhausted. The cancer treatment had left him weak. He hadn’t wanted to have to deal with the chemo today, but an opening came up and he couldn’t tell them no.

“Maggie, sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t stop this and just let the cancer win.”

He could almost hear his wife telling him not to be a dolt.Every life is precious, Henry. Especially yours.

But she didn’t really know him. Only the man he’d showed to her. She thought he was a God-fearing man who believed as she did. He never had the heart to tell her he didn’t buy all that salvation stuff. There was the here and now and nothing more.

For Maggie, he pretended because it made her happy.

He turned to his girls lined up and watching him. In the beginning when T first started killing, Henry enjoyed it himself. The thrill of the hunt. Finding just the right victim. But over time, watching as T’s taste for violence grew darker with each kill, well, it was too much even for Henry. He wasn’t like T, even though they had the same blood flowing through their bodies. When he’d met Maggie, he wanted to put a hold on the murders.

T was furious but had slowly accepted his wishes for the time being and things had changed for T as well. Both of their lives became more normal, well, as normal as two serial killers could expect. But Henry knew it wouldn’t last forever.

Henry sat down beside Sierra and waited for her to wake up. Two doses. That much could kill a person. “Foolish.”

He picked up the book he’d been reading earlier and found his page. Nothing dark. An old Western by Louis L’Amour. His weakness.

Henry lost himself in the Western as the hours passed and his fear for Sierra’s wellbeing increased.

He’d wait until he knew she was safe before he planned his next girl.

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